LITERATURE.

Otago Witness, Issue 3336, 20 February 1918, Page 53

LITERATURE.

BOOK NOTICES

"With the Anzacs in Cairo." By Guy Thornton, C.F.. Chaplain-captain of the N.Z.E.F. (Main Body). London: H. R. Allensin. (Cloth; 2s 6d net.) Many years' experience as a missioner has rendered the " White-haired Padre," author of the present volume, well qualified to speak on the subject of men and morals, and has given to him wisdom and discretion in speaking, so that his evidence is of first-class value, and probably as unprejudiced as possible. What he says carries weight, and this is what he says : Persistent rumours, more or less exaggerated, have been circulated in almost every part of our Empire with regard to the behaviour of brave Australian, New Zealand, and British troops whilst they were stationed in or near Cairo. I purpose in these pages to give a plain, unvarnished account of the real conditions of affairs in that city. To deny the existence of unspeakable vice and gross open immorality in Cairo is, unhappily, impossible ; but I do deny, and deny most emphatically, that the majority of out splendid soldiers were guilty of the various excesses which have been attributed to them. It is true that a small percentage of "rotters" and "wasters" behaved as badly as it was possible for men to behave; but when the fact of the abnormal temptations of a large Eastern city is taken into consideration, it will be realised that the wonder is not that so many fell, but that so many stood. Such is the deliberate, testimony of a man well qualified to judge. His book commences with the arrival of the Anzacs at Zeitoun on December 14, 1914, and their journey up the delta of the Nile to Cairo, and their first encampment amid the desert sand, which they fondly hoped would prove a soft bed; but in this tfiey were doomed to disappointment. "We scraped out a hollow for our hips, and carefully removed all the stones, but the sand, soft and yielding when we -first lay upon it, became each minute harder arid harder. Stones made themselves aggressive, and sleep was impossible. . . . Morning dawned on „ many very bad-tempered and hungry men." Other chapters tell of the cosmopolitan population of Cairo and the elusiveness of the Eastern character, giving some amusing examples of the art' of bargaining as practised over false "antiques." Thence he proceeds to expose the .flagrant and unblushing immorality of the city, and describes the preventive work which at once engaged him in endeavouring to warn our young soldiers of the dangers surrounding them -by opening their and helping them to escape the consequences of their own folly and ignorance. And here he bears witness to the many instances in which his efforts were successful, and the excellent spirit in which most of the boys met his remonstrance, often uttered in such phrases as "Don't you think that this is a good place to be out of?" or " Look here, my boy, you wouldn't like your people at home to know you were in a place like this, would you?" And once he won from a young irishman the heart-felt compliment, " If you're not a praste, ye'r d——d near good enough to be one." Drink, of course, bears a large, part in the dangers of this evil city, especially when it is known that the' hotel-keepers and bar-tenders are in league with the keepers of immoral houses and the touts working for them. The whole subject is indescribably painful, but it is treated simply and bravely as everv sore should be treated, and, in spite of the many pages deleted by the censor, enough remains to support the statement that the conduct of our men has been grossly exaggerated; that the wonder is, not " that so many fell, but that so many stood," and. finally, that now, while martial law is being enforced, is the time when these abominations should be forcibly put an end to, and the city of Cairo cleansed from its most crying evils. "The past is irremediable; the present is our opportunity.- Let us say: 'This evil must go,' and posterity will benefit. For their- good, for the honour of our beloved Empire, for the sake of God and good, let us do the right." " The Desert Trail." By Dane Ccolidge. London: Methuen and Co. (Cloth; 2s 6d net.) This is a tale of love and desperate adventure in the wild desert land between Mexico and Arizona. A long trail, a lost mine, fights with revolutionaries, with low-class thieves and wealthy robbers, occupy most of the pages, enlivened by a passionate love affair, m which the heroine, proud of her Spanish blood and American education, shows herself whimsical, capricious, faulty, and altogether delightful. The chief part in the tale is allotted to two friends —American citizens, soldiers of fortune, one a cowboy of the West and the other a mining engineer,—

who are admitted to the secret of the lost mine, and urged to undertake its recovery by the promise of & liberal share in the proceeds. At first they refuse, haying had a previous experience of Mexican methods, but ultimately they are induced to take the Desert Trail once more. These two young men, Bud Hooker and Phillip de Lancy, are good examples of that friendship which, since the days of David and Jonathan, has knit together the sOuls of young men seeking adventure. "Pardners" they call them in the West, and, though the word has not crept into the dictionary yet, it is as different from partner as a friend is from a business associate. They travel together, these pardners of the West. They go sh.:re and share in everything, and the boss who engages one engages both, and the boss who fires one fires both. In the present case, as often happens, the two are strikingly dissimilar in appearance and character. Hooker, the cowboy, is a silent giant, a man of deeds, not words, caring little for any kind of amusement and shy of all women. Phil, on the other hand, is a gay spark, free and easy, well liked by the men, and a universal lover of all women. But in spite of all differences they are faithful pardners, standing by each other in evil report and good report, and supporting each other even when they do not think' alike. But the great test of friendship comes when they fall in love with the same girl. Phil considers that she is engaged to him, and circumstances drive him from her presence to the far side of the American frontier. It then falls to Hooker- to guide her over the "Desert Trail" to the arms of her expectant lover. The way is beset by dangers, and rebel troops, who have no respect for women, are m hiding on every side. The silent man becomes vigilant as a coyote. He dare not sleep or leave her unprotected for a moment. More than once they are obliged to leave the direct trail and strike out over. the pathless desert. His unspoken love consumes him, but he is faithful to his trust. However, when the frontier is reached the girl has learned to appreciate her heroic companion and understand his silence, and when Phil would have claimed her as of right, she turns from his easy* cheap devotion and throws her arms around Hooker's neck, drawing his rough face down to hers* and cries. ""You do love me, don't you, Bud?" she sobbed. "Oh, you are so good, so brave! And now will you take the kiss?" (once offered but rejected from a sense of honour). "Try me," said Bud.